Gale Atkins: Story of a Half Angel
by FuzziCatz
Summary: Up until her sixteenth birthday Gale Atkins was a typical teenage girl with an over-the-top mother. On her sixteenth birthday, her mother revealed who Gale really was. Over the next eight years Gale trained to be a hunter and to disprove the idea that all children like her are evil.
1. Chapter 1

**Preface (I Guess)**

 _I suppose I need to explain some things before jumping into the meat of things. Whoever you are that is reading this unless you are from a very specific group of people you won't believe a word of what I write. My reality will be your fiction. I guess that's alright. That will just mean that my friends and I are doing our jobs right. To those that know that this is normal (or not that surprising. Let's be honest, normal was thrown out the window a_ long _time ago), congratulations on finding time to read this. Heaven knows that I have a hard time finding time to write in it._

 _My name is Gale Atkins, daughter of Lexi Atkins. My stepdad is Kade Atkins, I never knew my real dad. Only recently did I learn anything about him. Before I get into that there are a few more things you should know. I live in Kansas City, Missouri. We're well enough off, and have a two story house in a decent neighborhood. There were a few kids my age nearby, as well as some around my brother's age._

 _I have light brown skin tone, dark brown hair that goes a bit past my shoulders, and hazel eyes. I'm a bit tall for a girl my age, being 5'5'' when I turned 24. That's enough about me for now, I don't need to bore you with all this crap._

 _Everything was perfect, and yet everything was wrong._

It was my sixteenth birthday at noon. I didn't want to get up anytime soon. Mom had told me yesterday (on accident) that she was going to surprise me today. I was _not_ up for another stupid birthday surprise this year. It was bad enough last year when she took me to Rome. That was one of the more embarrassing times…

"Gale? Mom says you have to come down," Derek, my younger brother, told me.

I sighed and sat up from where I was lying on my bed. I had been reading _The Hunger Games_ for the fifth time on my bed before he had interrupted me.

"What's the surprise this year?" I asked.

Derek had a knack of getting Mom to tell him my birthday surprise. Usually. Rome was a surprise for him as well.

"She won't tell. I just hope it isn't anything like last year," he groaned.

Right… Derek had to stay home with Dad during that trip. Frankly, I would have done anything to trade places with him. All we really did was visit some old churches from the days of the Holy Roman Empire. I couldn't even get decent WiFi half the time.

I stood up. "Might as well go face the dragon."

Derek laughed. Freaking brothers. He left, leaving me to pull on some clothes (I had been in my PJs of a tank top and sweatpants). I grabbed a white short sleeved tunic, a dark green velvet blazer, and a pair of black leggings. I paused in front of my dresser before putting my necklace around my neck. The necklace was my eighth birthday present, a piece of blue topaz trapped in a spiral of silver adorned with small crystals. It was one of the best surprises I've gotten.

I headed downstairs and was surprised to see mom sitting at the dining room table looking at some old papers. Derek was in the living room watching TV, and he made a shooing motion when I started to head his way. There was no way that I was ready for something that made Mom actually use some of the old notebooks that she had in the attic.

"Hey Mom," I said as I slid into the chair across from her.

"Good morning honey. Are you ready for this year's surprise?" she asked, closing the open notebook before I could peek at what was inside.

"As ready as I'll ever be. What is it this year?" I asked.

My chair was roughly pointed towards the living room, so I saw when Derek tried to sneak into earshot. I shooed him away. This is _my_ birthday secret.

"Kade and I talked about this, and we decided to tell you something that you should know."

Please do not tell me that I'm adopted.

"It's about your real father, Gale. I want to tell you about him," Mom told me.

Wait, what? "So Dad isn't my dad? I'm from some kind of fling you had when you were younger?" I asked, heavily confused.

"No, not just some 'fling' when I was a teenager. Gale, you know me better than that. This happened a few years after I got married to Kade, and he was OK with it."

"Say what? Dad was alright with you being with another guy?"

"Just… Just let me explain before you interrupt. Kade and I had been trying to have children for two years. It just couldn't happen. Every night we prayed that we would be able to have a child, and eventually our prayers were answered. Your father, Jael, is an angel. He spoke to us over the course of several weeks before he gave us an option. Jael could use Kade as a vessel and give us a child that way. He warned us that the other angels wouldn't be as understanding."

"So you're saying I'm half angel? Does that mean that I can do all kinds of awesome stuff?"

Mom laughed before she started to explain what this meant for me.

 _March 17, 2001_

 _So I'm half angel, a Nephilim. Mom has my grace (the thing that actually makes me an angel) so I can stay under the angel radar. She's given me a choice, one that will determine how my life will play out. I can choose to learn how to fight demons, ghosts, and all other kinds of creatures that are straight out of a horror movie and use my angel powers (Nephilim powers technically) to help people or I can continue to just be Gale Atkins and live a normal life._

 _What should I do? I don't know anymore what way to go. Usually I know immediately, but now I can't. One path is a path of adventure, one where I can make my own place in the world, and the other is me just settling for what I have. Being… average. But I'm not average. I've never fit in. Not at school, in the community, or even at home. I need to find my own niche in the world, but am I prepared to take the consequences that come with that choice?_

 _No. I'm not going to consider the catastrophic consequences that will happen if the angels find me. Dad, my real dad, might accept me but the rest of the angels view kids like me as an abomination. That's why Mom hid me and is giving me this choice. She wants to prove that not all Nephilim are bad and that we can do good things._

 _I'm going to accept her offer of teaching me how to fight these monsters. Maybe I can find my place out there, with other people that have no place._

 _Gale Atkins_


	2. Chapter 2

**And Today Was Going So Well**

September 18, 2008

Bobby called me at ten in the morning, disrupting me from my sleep. I had been up late taking care of a Wendigo in Westbrook Minnesota. I had only gotten back to my hotel room at three in the morning, and I was dead tired. Blindly, I reached for my cell.

"This better be an emergency," I growled after looking at the caller ID.

"Good to talk to you too, Gale. We needs your help," Bobby, an old friend of my mother's, told me.

"What is it this time?"

"Dean is back."

Dean Winchester had been sent to Hell four months ago. Now, he was apparently back. The only thing that I know of that has that kind of power is...

"I'll be there in two hours. Don't do anything stupid."

Angels. For the first time in two thousand years they are doing miracles (besides me. That was just one angel) and they just happen to raise a hunter from Hell. Something is up. Something big.

I pull on my clothes, a red tunic with half sleeves that transitioned to lace, with the lace reaching my wrists, and some ripped blue jeans. My necklace was still around my neck, I had forgotten to take it off last night, and I slid on my shoes before grabbing the bag I had in the room and going outside to silver Chevrolet Nova. It was almost two hours to Bobby's house, and I only hoped that I would arrive before they did anything stupid.

By speeding slightly, I was able to arrive within an hour and a half of Bobby calling me. I grabbed my bag (it held some personal items: water, mints, and the notebook I've been making of the different creatures I come across) and headed inside. Dean, Sam, and Bobby were all sitting in Bobby's library reading.

"Tell me that you didn't do anything stupid," I told them as I entered the room.

"We went to see Pamela to see what she could find out," Bobby told me.

"And you did a séance? That falls under stupid. What did you find out?"

"Only a name, 'Castiel'," Dean told me, closing the book he had open.

"What are we dealing with?" Bobby asked.

"An angel. Castiel... I swear I've heard that name before..."

"How would you know an angel's name? If it actually is an angel," Dean asked me.

Only my mom, stepdad, and me know about my angelic parent. I've been keeping it a secret from the hunter community due to some listening angels that could be wandering.

"Personal stuff," I replied.

Dean rolled his eyes. I had met the brothers last year when Dean was due to go on a trip to Hell in seven months. We weren't exactly friends, but we could appreciate each other's talents and wit.

"Demons exist, Dean. How is angels existing so hard to accept?" I asked him.

"Have you ever seen an angel?" he replied.

"Pamela has. I bet her eyes are burned out. An angel's true form is not something your eyes are meant to see."

"My eyes?"

"Mortal eyes, Dean. Not just you," I replied, exasperated.

"If you ladies are done arguing, can we at least figure out what we need to do next?" Bobby asked.

"We're summoning this thing. Whatever it is, it has enough juice to pull me out of Hell. We need to know what we're dealing with," Dean said.

"That's a bad idea," I told him.

"I agree with Gale. Whoever Castiel is he's stronger than anything we've ever faced before. If we do some research there might be something that can tell us more about him," Sam pointed out.

They weren't going to listen to me. Might as well figure out who Castiel is. Mom probably remembers if she knows anything about him. I shot off a quick text to see if she was on her phone and almost immediately got one back.

Mom: What's up?

Gale: Angels. Ever hear of one named Castiel?

Mom: ANGELS? Where? What did you do?

Gale: Mom, chill. Remember Dean? One named Castiel raised him from the Pit.

Mom: Oh.

Mom: Thought you were in trouble for a second.

Gale: And Castiel?

Mom: He's the leader of your father's garrison. Stay away from him, sweetheart.

Mom: Some angels can tell if someone is Nephilim just by looking at them.

Gale: Seems like Dean really wants to summon him.

Mom: Come home before that happens.

Gale: Mom…

"Who're you texting?" Dean asked, suddenly right in front of me.

I almost punched him in the face. "Warn me before you sneak up on me!"

"We're summoning him tonight. Would you come?" Dean whispered.

I almost said no. I'm just a bit too reckless at times, and impulsive. "Yes," I replied, whispering.

I sat on one of the tables in the barn scrolling through my phone while we waited for Castiel to show up. Every gust of wind made me jump a little bit. I just had to stay calm. Stay out of his focus and you'll be alright. Nothing to see here. Theoretically, I could remove my grace (painful process) and become 'human' me, but I didn't want to, just in case things went south.

"Are you sure you did the ritual correctly?" Dean asked Bobby.

Both Bobby and I gave him looks.

"Right."

The roof suddenly rattles. Dean and Bobby grab their shotguns that were sitting next to them. I try to get out of direct sight of the door.

"Please just be the wind," I whispered.

The doors fly open and in walks a man that I can only assume is Castiel. His vessel had dark brown hair and what seemed to be blue eyes (I was still fairly far away and had Dean between me and him). He was wearing a suit and a tan trenchcoat. My only thought was 'Please don't notice me!' which, if you are trying to remain unnoticed by someone that can read your mind, is a bad idea. Dean and Bobby shot at Castiel, but the shots didn't slow him down.

"Who are you?" Dean asked him.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Castiel replied in a husky voice.

Dean tried to stab Castiel with the demon blade he stole from Ruby. He succeeded, but all Castiel did was look down at the knife, pull it out, and drop it to the floor. Bobby swung at Castiel with an iron weapon, but Castiel grabs it before it can hit him. I edge away from the fight towards the back door. I'm lucky he hasn't noticed me yet (and if he has I'm screwed) but with two hunters attacking I wouldn't blame him.

"Stop," Castiel commanded me.

My legs turned to jelly. Figuratively. I froze, shaking a bit in the face of an angel. The angel that was more than likely going to kill me. I should have said no when Dean asked me to come. I should have just told Bobby what I knew on the phone. Curse my impulsiveness!

Bobby falls to the floor after Castiel touches his forehead with two fingers, probably using his grace to make the man pass out. It takes awhile to get that good at using your grace on any level above instinct. I've been using mine for eight years and it's still fifty-fifty on if I can actually manage what I want to do.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone," Castiel said.

White engulfed my vision as I passed out. I can assume that an hour passed (at least) before I came to. Dean and Bobby were gone, and Castiel was leaning against one of the tables as he watched me. Cautiously, as to not cause my premature death, I sat up from where I was lying on the ground.

"What's up?" I asked gingerly.

Castiel looked up, perplexed by my question. "The ceiling. Why?"

"It's… nevermind," I replied. Explaining human culture right now was not the best use of my time.

"Why were you here?"

"Dean asked me to come. I warned him, multiple times, to not do this."

Castiel approached me before crouching down so he was eye level with me. There was some curiosity in his eyes. Perhaps he was wondering why I wasn't attacking him. Most of the stories about Nephilim that are true do portray us as vicious creatures. He put two fingers to my forehead and I felt t slight tingle from his grace as he went through my memories.

I was perfectly still. Knowing that Castiel could easily kill me didn't make this easy. I wanted to hide some memories, but I couldn't. Hiding memories right now would only make the angel suspicious. It might result in me dying. So instead, Castiel got access to all the song lyrics and cat memes in my head. Plus all the other memories, some of which show me at my worst.

"You're different," Castiel stated.

"Beats being normal."

"Why aren't you like the others?"

"Because I had people that loved me very much teaching me."

Castiel teleported away with a flutter of wings.

 _September 20, 2008_

 _Today was quite a day. I met Castiel, an angel. He's the leader of the garrison my dad is in. I half expected to die in that barn today. Something happened, though. Castiel let me go. He said I was different, probably meaning compared to the other Nephilim that have existed. For once, I'm glad that I've chosen the path I'm on right now._

 _Castiel also read my memories. All of them. Every embarrassing thought, every moment that I was less than who I am right now. Some of them might have signed my death sentence with other angels, even without them knowing I was Nephilim. I'm glad that he didn't kill me._

 _I need to get this off my chest. He (his vessel maybe. Either that or I'm picking up on his true form a bit) is hot. You know how I said Dean was hot at one point in time? Hotter than that._

 _Holy crap I'm crushing on an angel._

 _Gale Atkins_


	3. Chapter 3

**#Awkward**

September 21, 2008

After Castiel left I went outside to head back to Bobby's to meet up with Sam and Dean. I was honestly curious about what was going down, so I figured I could stay for awhile. It's not like I have any other responsibilities right now. Before I left I checked my phone, which had been turned off during the summoning. I had three texts and a missed call from my mom, all having been sent in the past two hours.

Mom: YOU STAYED?

Mom: Dean told me that you're alone with that angel.

Mom: If you're dead I'm bringing you back.

I couldn't help but smile at the last one. If anything, I knew that Dad (Kade, not Jael) would have a fit if Mom even suggested going to a crossroads demon to bring me back.

Gale: I'm not dead.

Gale: I'm going to be driving. I'll text you when I get to Bobby's.

I climbed into the car and started the short drive to the salvage yard. Once I got there I checked my phone for the text I knew my mom had sent me.

Mom: What happened?

Gale: Castiel wanted to talk.

Mom: And he didn't kill you?

Gale: Mom, I'm texting you.

Gale: How could I possibly be dead?

Gale: Wait, Dean told you I was alone with Castiel?

Gale: What were Dean's exact words?

Mom: Rather suggestive ones. You don't want to know.

Gale: Dean will feel my wrath.

I entered the house. Dean was reading from a book, as were Sam and Bobby. Dean looked up when he heard me approaching him.

"Hey there, Gale," he greeted weakly.

I forgot to mention I was giving him a complete death stare.

"Next time you tell my mom I was cornered by an angel and make it seem suggestive I _will_ castrate you," I told him quietly.

"What did Castiel want to talk about anyways?" Sam asked.

"Family stuff. He knows my dad and wanted to check up on me for him," I lied.

Checking up on me was probably the last thing Castiel was doing. More like threatening me and then letting me go.

"Right…" Dean said, not believing me.

Forgot that he could read me like an open book.

"What do you know about angels?" Bobby asked, drawing the attention away from me.

"Angels like Castiel or angels in general?" I asked. Mom had given me Dad's old journals from the times he visited. Inside were a bunch of stuff about the hierarchy of angels and their abilities.

"Angels like Castiel," Dean told me.

"An angel's true form can be fatal to humans. Seeing them, or hearing their true voices, can cause blindness or deafness. In extreme cases the person that sees or hears the angel will die. Angels can smite demons but touching their heads, walk in people's dreams, and heal humans. As you can see with Dean, they have the power to resurrect humans. They have extraordinary strength and intelligence. Some angels possess the capability to read the mind of a human or angel. Usually doing so does require permission," I explained.

"How do you know all this?" Sam asked me.

"My dad gave me his research notes on angels," I replied.

Technically, it was true. He gave them to my mom who gave them to me. He wanted to protect her and me in case the angels figured out what he did.

September 24, 2008

I was at a hotel in Sioux Falls waiting and scrolling through some websites trying to find a hunt to go on. A flutter of wings draws my attention, and I turn around to see Castiel and my father (Kade, presumably with Jael hitching a ride. It didn't appear that Castiel brought him here.) standing by the door.

"We need to talk," Castiel told me.

I closed my laptop before sitting up on the bed I had green sprawled on. "About what?"

Dad casually sat in a chair that was at the table in the room. I barely caught Castiel's eye roll.

"About what's going to happen with you," Dad told me.

"Right. The whole 'Nephilim are evil and should all die' spiel."

Dad nodded. "Castiel isn't too terribly happy with me right now."

"I can't imagine why," I told him dryly.

This was my first time meeting my dad (Jael). Surprisingly, our senses of humor were very similar.

"Cas has agreed to let you keep working with Sam and Dean Winchester under the assumption that if you intentionally hurt them or break a seal he will kill you," Dad told me.

"Seals? As in the ones keeping Luci downstairs?" I asked.

What? I got tired of calling the fallen angel by his full name. Plus this way people listening to my conversations don't think I'm that crazy. Dad laughed at what I called his brother.

"Yes," Castiel told me, shooting a pointed glare towards my father.

"I'll need to know what seals there are. I only know like, three off the top of my head."

"I'll get you a list," Dad told me.

"So this'll just be between the three of us? No other angels knowing about me?" I asked, just to make sure.

"That would be wise," Castiel said.

"Hey, Cas. Can I talk to Gale alone?" Dad asked.

"Jael…" Castiel warned.

"Five minutes?"

Castiel sighed. "You have five minutes."

Castiel teleported away (flying, basically. Note to self: figure out flight) leaving me and Dad alone. Dad wrapped me in a hug after a second.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you growing up," he told me.

"Don't worry, Dad. I didn't turn out too bad, so that's a plus," I replied, smiling a bit.

It was strange how easily talking to him came to me. Most of the time around strangers I'm typically shy. Castiel was one of the few exceptions (possibly because I felt my life was threatened) that have occurred over the years of me not absolutely clamming up when someone I don't know starts to talk to me.

"Zachariah would have found you if I had direct contact with you. The only way I could think to reach you were through the notebooks I gave your mother."

Every year since I turned sixteen I got a new notebook from Dad (Jael). Each one taught me about different aspects of what my choice would bring me. When I turned eighteen I got instructions on how to begin working with my grace (still am super rusty with it) and flying.

"It's fine. Really. It honestly gave me something to look forward to other than Mom's ridiculous birthday surprises."

"Was it Mayan ruins last year?"

"Yup. And Derek had to stay home. I wish Mom had let him come. He would have loved the ruins."

"There are some things I want to tell you. A couple of the angels in the garrison know I come down here a lot, and recently one of them started following me. I don't want him to find out about you just yet. Uriel… he may have the best sense of humor in the garrison, but his sense of duty would overwhelm that. Would you drop some stuff by Lexi for me?"

"If Uriel is following you how did you get to Kade?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Cas gave him an assignment with one of the seals."

Silence fell between us for a few moments.

"Hey, Dad? Can I ask you one thing?"

"Sure, Gale," Dad replied.

"Why does Castiel hate me? Like, he hasn't said it, but I can see it in his eyes. I can understand him not liking me because I'm half angel, but this is more than that. I can feel it."

"He doesn't hate you, Gale. Cas is a bit curious about you. He wants to learn more about you, see how you react under different circumstances. To be honest, Cas admires how you've stood up against the common belief that all Nephilim are bad."

"He has a funny way of showing it."

"Gale, look. Up there, we're taught that emotions cause doubt. Doubt causes angels to fall to Earth. We've learned to hide our emotions to most others. I've been around Cas long enough to read him better than most other angels. Trust me, he doesn't hate you."

Castiel teleported back into the room. "Let's go, Jael."

Dad snapped his fingers, causing a bag to appear on the bed. "Get that to your mother for me, would you?"

"Sure."

The two angels flew out of the room. My phone buzzed a minute later with a text from Sam.

Samoose: We need to talk.

I immediately guessed that Dean had sent the text from Sam's phone. Sam's texts were always a bit longer and more formally addressed.

Whirlwind: About…?

Given, I had let Sam pick my nickname on this chat.

Samoose: Just get over here.

Samoose: Sorry, Gale. Dean stole my phone.

Samoose: He's right. We do need to talk.

Whirlwind: Be over in 10.

 _September 24, 2008_

 _It seems Dean and Sam have found something out. Castiel had told me two days ago that they were dealing with a seal. He didn't want me to intervene then, so I stayed at my hotel here in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I hope it's about the seals. I know three of them, the first (Dean broke that one), the last (killing the first demon, Lilith), and raising Samhain. Dad (Jael) gave me a list of the six hundred possible seals and told me that only sixty six of them need to break before Uncle Luci walks free._

 _Castiel gave me an ultimatum. Help protect the seals with Sam and Dean or die. I've decided to stick with the two brothers for a little bit, trying to protect some of the seals. I'll go off on my own after a month or two._

 _Dad said something rather interesting. Castiel admires me. For what? I don't know what I'm doing half the time and half of the other half of the time I screw up. That's why I usually hunt alone. I don't want to burden others with my bad choices. What is there to admire about that? Dad said it was because I'm different from the Nephilim from the old stories, but I don't think so. If that was it I doubt I would feel this way._

 _Something is approaching. Something that will either make or break everything I stand and hope for. I can only hope to high heaven that I'm ready for it when the time comes._

 _Gale Atkins_


	4. Chapter 4

**It's Not What It Looks Like (I Swear)**

September 24, 2008

I climbed out of my car and started to head up to Bobby's door. Dean was waiting for me on the porch, shotgun in hand. This was bad. Whatever they had found out had made Dean mad or _scared_ enough to have a weapon pointed at me. He opened the door, intending for me to enter before him, which I did. Bobby and Sam were waiting for me inside. Sam gestured for me to take a seat.

"When were you going to tell us, Gale?" Sam asked.

"Tell you what? Be more specific?" I asked in reply. I needed to know what they knew.

"That you're half angel," Dean said.

"... When it became relevant?"

"And now it isn't?"

"Not really? Right now there are slightly bigger fish to fry, like the impending apocalypse. I guess I didn't say before because I was afraid. People like me are seen as destructive, evil, and just generally bad. If the angels got word of me, I would be dead. They would shoot first, ask questions later."

"What about Castiel?" Sam asked me.

"We've come to an agreement."

"What kind of agreement?" Dean pressed.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't intentionally break any of the seals and try to protect the ones I find, and I get to keep breathing."

"Harsh," Sam commented.

"Any other angel probably would have just killed me. This is merciful compared to that," I pointed out.

October 8, 2008

I tossed my duffel bag on the bed in the hotel and I flopped down next to it in sheer exhaustion. I had just gotten back from keeping Lilith from breaking one of the seals (Castiel had come with me as backup, which I was glad for) and I was dead tired. It had been a long night. Top that off with having to drive an hour back to civilization after the hunt (which ended at two in the morning) I needed sleep.

After the job was done, Castiel had asked if I knew how to fly (actually, his exact words were "Can you do _anything_?") I had to admit that I was terrible at doing things with my grace. It was hard to learn how to use it after sixteen years of growing up without it. Upon learning that, Castiel offered to teach me a couple things about how to use my grace properly (he had asked me to do something with it, and I failed. Miserably. Apparently I was doing something wrong). I agreed to Grace Usage 101, and Castiel had said to call him when I was ready.

The ready part was added after I practically fell asleep on my feet. Sleep came over me very quickly, after I kicked off my shoes and took off my necklace. Changing required too much energy right now.

After the refreshing sleep (like, nine hours) I was able to get up and start my morning routine: changing into a new set of clothes, a black tunic with a white tank top over it and ripped jeans; eating breakfast at the hotel (this one had a continental breakfast included with the price); and saying my morning prayers.

Yes, I said prayers every morning. Even knowing that most angels were complete jerks (Dad had told me about some of the angels in the same garrison he was in) I felt that praying was the right thing to do. Like always, I asked that my family was protected and that they would be safe from all the chaos that was happening at the time. They, like always, were my number one priority.

Only after I was completely ready did I call Castiel.

"Castiel, I'm ready," I whispered.

I knew he would hear it. One time when I just mouthed the words so Sam and Dean didn't hear the angel came. A flutter of wings sounded behind me, signalling that Castiel had arrived.

"Good morning, Gale," he told me.

My heart practically skipped a beat. This was pretty much the first time that I've gotten to talk to Castiel without my life on the line.

"Morning, Castiel," I replied with a smile.

No sign of what was going on inside my head escaped into my voice. No indication that I was thinking about how his blue eyes practically sparkled in the light. No stutter to show that I was wondering how nice it would be to run my hands through his hair. Most of all, no lingering stare on his lips as I felt the desire to kiss him. I wasn't ready to admit this crush. It wouldn't work. It couldn't. The only reason he was here was to teach me so I can be more useful. Nothing else. It's all I'll ever be, just some tool to stop the apocalypse. Sure it hurt, but it was the cold, hard truth.

"Do you know how to open your wings?" Castiel asked me.

"I have wings?"

"Most Nephilim do."

"How do you know if I have them?" I asked.

"I can see your true form," Castiel explained. Upon seeing my confused look he elaborated. "Angels have to have a vessel on earth. The vessel conceals our true forms so we can blend in and work with humans. You were born with your vessel."

"And true form me has wings?"

"It's difficult to tell," he admitted.

"So how do we tell?"

"Sit down."

I complied, sitting on my bed. Castiel brought a chair over from the table so he could sit facing me.

"Focus your grace towards your back between your shoulder blades."

I closed my eyes. It took me a moment to find where my grace was (its hard to find sometimes, could just be me not using it enough) and then I tried forcing it to my back where Castiel had told me to.

"Don't try forcing it. Let your grace flow, like a river," Castiel suggested quietly.

My eyes were still closed as I attempted to do what he said. I let my grace flow from my neck to my back. It felt different from other times when I would try doing something with it. It felt... warm. Comfortable.

"You can open your eyes now," Castiel told me, his smile hinting in his voice.

I did and almost gasped at what I saw. A pair of large golden wings were behind me (there was a mirror behind Castiel that I could see). More than that, I could feel them. Suddenly, I was aware of two new limbs that I had no idea how to use. Through my amazement I noticed Castiel keeping his gaze in the floor.

"What now?" I asked.

Dad had briefly mentioned in one of the notebooks that an angel's wings are very private. Usually angels only showed them to family and when absolutely necessary. Wings take a long time to heal, so if they get injured another angel has to heal them.

"Try hiding your wings again," Castiel told me.

I didn't bother asking how. I wanted to figure that out by myself. I closed my eyes and found the stream of my grace that was going g to my wings. I tried to stop it, but each time failed. I thought for a second. When you want to stop a river you redirect it, so it tried that. I diverted my grace back towards my neck and I felt my wings (the physical embodiment of them. I could feel my true form wings still, oddly enough) disappear.

"I have to go," Castiel told me, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"See you later," I told him.

Castiel disappeared with a flutter of wings. I flopped back on the bed. Over the past (almost) month my crush on Castiel has only grown. I had actually asked my dad (Jael) about how angels are related just to see how weird my crush was. It's not as weird as I thought it would be.

It's a common belief that angels are all siblings, but they aren't. There are families of angels. Dad told me that his family up there is related to Michael, one of the archangels. It's a couple millennia back, so he's basically my great grandfather. Some angels do call other their siblings, but it's more of a term of endearment then actual relationships.

 _October 8, 2008_

 _Today Castiel taught me how to bring out my wings. Apparently, I've been doing it wrong all this time. It felt right, using my grace. The feeling scared me a bit. I hold a bunch of power. If I become reliant on it or start using it when I shouldn't be then I'm afraid of what I'll become. Could this power be why most Nephilim turn out the way they do? Maybe because they don't have someone willing to put them through pain and teach them what is wrong and right they do the things they do. I don't know. All I have are theories._

 _On the topic of my wings I barely caught Castiel taking a peek at them (Angel's equivalent to being caught in the shower). That did weird things to my stomach. It was hard to focus on what I needed to do and keep my mind shielded from him. It would be so embarrassing if Castiel caught me thinking about him like this. I doubt he even feels the same way. I guess that to him I'm just a tool, a weapon to train and use in the war against Lilith._

 _Dad told me he was going to talk to me again soon (this time without Castiel knowing). I doubt Castiel will find that amusing (or think it's a good idea) at all. He likes to keep Dad on a short leash after finding out about me. Frankly, it's fun watching the two of them interact. Dad likes to tease Castiel and try embarrassing him and Castiel sometimes answers (in enochian. Next thing to learn: how to understand enochian) and makes Dad smile._

 _Gale Atkins_


	5. Chapter 5

**Scared to Death Yet? No? Good.**

October 15, 2008

I sighed as I got out of my car. Sam and Dean had called me an hour ago asking me to meet them in Rock Ridge, Colorado. Things weren't adding up, and they wanted my input on it. It gave me a break from dealing with the seals (and having my heart almost skip a beat every time Castiel so much as glanced my direction when we weren't on a job), so I welcomed the distraction. I had already gotten an idea of what was going on.

I had found a similar case a few years ago, given it wasn't as bad. It had been a simple salt and burn, and what the boys had was worse. There was no corpse to burn and the ghost (technically a Buru Buru, but I'm just going to keep it simple) was a no-show. What was worse, Dean had the sickness. I had talked to him on the phone an hour ago. It was impossible to not grin at his rant about hunting ghosts and 'who does that kind of thing?'

"Hey, Sam," I greeted the younger Winchester as I approached where he was outside their hotel room.

"Tell me that's Gale and not some shifter," Dean yelled from inside.

"How long has he been like this?" I asked.

"About four hours. I tried calling Bobby to see what he knows about the case, but I couldn't get hold of him."

"He's probably busy. I worked a case similar to this a couple years ago, so at least you got me."

"How do we kill this thing?"

"Salt and burn the bones. Going by what you said on the phone that just ain't happening. I found a bunch of lore suggesting that you can scare it to death. Since the ghost isn't showing that will be somewhat difficult."

"Try impossible," Sam told me, rolling his eyes.

"Would it be a bad time to say I have an idea?" I asked, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Sam raised an eyebrow at that statement. I did have an idea. One that I worked on while I was driving over. I'm just going to pray that it works or Dean is dead. That might fall under the 'hurt the Winchesters and I'll kill you' catagory with Castiel, and I wasn't willing to take the chance.

"Do you know where this guy died?" I asked.

"Out at the lumber mill. Why?"

"Summoning the spirit. Will Dean be alright here on his own?"

Sam glanced at the window. I could see Dean sitting on the hotel's couch watching some kind of cartoon on the TV. "He'll be fine."

"Let's go."

Sam climbed into my car and gave me directions to the lumber mill. I got out of my car when we got there, grabbed a couple things from my trunk, and started to look around. I needed to find at least a scrap of the corpse. Sam just raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"You said the guy was dragged up and down this stretch of road. I'm trying to find a trace of him. I think I can call his spirit here then."

"You can do that?"

"Sam, there isn't a Nephilim handbook I can pick up at my local bookstore. It's pretty much a hit and miss type of deal. I'm just hoping to high heaven that this is one of the times that I'm right."

Ten minutes passed as we searched both sides of the road. Sam was on one side, and I was on the other. We had moved down maybe a quarter of a mile or less when I spied an old, faded, splotch of brown on the pavement. I knelt down next to it and touched it gingerly. It was exactly what I was looking for.

"Jackpot," I whispered.

Explanation of what I'm about to do: Ghosts are linked to their bodies. I (might) be able to grab onto that link and reel in the ghost. Put a salt circle around it and I can have it caged for a bit while I work on the next bit. I had a chain forged with salt in it (and devil's traps etched on the links), this was my go-to for when I needed to restrain something for questioning or just containment. I was going to use the chain to restrain the ghost and then have Sam drag him behind my car.

As far as plans go it's pretty solid. Except for the big IF I can get the spirit to come to us.

I tossed Sam my keys. "Can you go get my car?"

Sam nodded and started to walk back. I grabbed the salt and made an ten foot almost circle around the splotch. I left a bit of it broken, but kept the salt on hand to fill that in once the ghost was inside it. That done I put my hand on the dried blood and let my grace flow down my arm. It took me a moment to find the connection between the ghost and his remains, but I soon had a hold of it. When I tried pulling on the bond it didn't move and I lost my grip on it. I let more of my grace flow down towards my hand, hoping that it was just a case of not enough power.

A heartbeat passed. I caught hold of the bond once more. I felt the ghost coming closer. A little bit more… Another heartbeat. He was here. I jumped back and out of the circle just in time to avoid getting hit in the head. I threw some salt at the break I had left in the circle leaving the ghost trapped. I let out a shaky breath. That took a lot of power. The more power I use at once, the better it feels. Like a post grace usage high or something like that. It scares the living tar out of me because I know what that feeling can lead to. The stories of the other Nephilim tell me all I need to know about that path.

Sam drove up behind where I was. He didn't stop the car. The chain that I had looped over my shoulder told him exactly what my plan was. I looked at the ghost.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Either way you'll end up in the same place," I told him. What's the harm in trying to get one thing to go right today?

The ghost stalked back and forth in the circle. Hard way it is. Sam kept the car running when he got out to help me tangle the spirit in the chain. I attached said chain to my car and Sam hit the gas pedal. Bye-bye ghost.

At that point I promptly passed out. Overexertion with my grace. I'm still new to using it, and it'll be a while before I'm good enough at using it to do things like this and not have physical side effects. I'm basically guessing at how much power to use. The excess that slips over causes chaos on my health if there is enough.

 _October 15, 2008_

 _It's getting worse. Just using my grace to bring the ghost to me gave me such a feeling of… I don't know. Every time I use it the feeling gets stronger. I'm scared. Is this why all the other Nephilim go dark side? Because of this feeling? I need to talk to Dad about it, maybe Castiel too. I am more than sure that they can help me in some way._

 _In the past few days I've been experimenting with flying. Even that brings this feeling. I'm going to stop until I understand what is going on with this. I pray that it's something that I can work through. Until next time._

 _Gale Atkins_


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to the people that leave reviews! They make my day! Just a note: this is my idea of what a Nephilim is, and the struggles that come with that. Season 13 isn't out yet, and I hope that will help me make this better (from what I've heard there's a Nephilim that works with Sam and Dean, I don't know. I'm still in Season 8)**

 **Answers? I'll Take That.**

October 17, 2008

"Jael, if you can, can you come? I... I don't know what's happening. I need help. I understand if you're busy or if Uriel is following you. If that's the case, send Castiel if you can. I... I can't figure this out," I prayed as I knelt next to the bed in the hotel I was at.

A few seconds later there was the sound of wings and a hand touched my shoulder.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

I stood up and turned to face him. He was hitching a ride in Kade, who by the look of it had barely gotten up before the angel asked to get a ride. I wrapped him in a tight hug, relieved that he had been available.

"I don't know. Whenever I do something... anything with my grace it makes me feel... high, I guess. It's been getting worse. I don't know why it's happening or why."

He started to pace back and forth, running his hands through his (Kade's, I guess) short brown hair. "I was afraid that this would happen…"

"What? Is this normal?"

Dad paused in his pacing. "It's something that happens when a human soul interacts with grace. A long time ago, back during the Nephilim War, one of my brothers was experimenting with some of the captured Nephs. He learned most of what we know about Nephilim. It was rumored in the garrison that this brother was trying to find a way to help the Nephs overcome this reaction with their grace. Michael heard of this, and shut down the experiment, officially."

"And unofficially?" I prompted.

"A very drunk seraph told me that Michael let the experiment continue. She hinted that Michael wanted to help some of the Nephs that wanted to change."

"I'm guessing that wherever this experiment was is extremely guarded and nobody is really allowed in?"

"Abandoned, actually. With Raphael watching over it."

"An archangel guarding an abandoned building. Sounds suspicious… How do we get in?"

Dad grinned. "I may have paid a certain pretty angel to distract Raphael for the day."

"The archangel has a crush on another angel? Scandalous!" I joked.

"He's only been pining after her since the Egyptians first started building the pyramids," he told me, smiling.

"On a more serious note, where and when are we going?"

"Heaven. If I remember correctly, a woman from around the time of Abraham. We'll go as soon as you're ready."

I grabbed my notebook and pen and stick them in my backpack, a simple black bag that I decorated with a simple Eye of Horus, a protection symbol.

"Let's go."

Jael put a hand on my shoulder and flew us to our destination. The building was beautiful, more than I imagined. It was clay brick with dark wooden supports for the roof which extended to create a shaded area by the front door. The roof was bark shingles, and was in amazing condition, given the materials used. The angel next to me smiled at my awe.

"They just don't build things like they used to."

"I support that. Let's go see this research," I replied.

We entered the building. On the inside it was one giant room with columns scattered around to support the ceiling. Tables were clustered around a few of these pillars, and there were a couple bookshelves pushed against one of the walls. An angel was sitting on a woven mat next to one of the bookshelves, reading an old book.

"I was wondering what was going on when Raphael left," the angel commented.

"My apologies, Sorath. I didn't know that you would be here," Dad told the angel, Sorath.

"Since you drew Raphael away I can only imagine that Michael doesn't know you're here with your daughter."

"You would be right."

"What is your name, Nephilim?" Sorath asked me.

"Gale… Gale Atkins," I replied.

"I'm going to guess that you need help with the grace and human soul problem. You must have heard that from someone high up on the chain, Jael. Michael has kept my project here under wraps for several millennia."

"You know me, Sorath. Gramps can't keep anything from me for too long."

Sorath closed the book and stood. "Better not let Michael hear you call him that."

"About the problem…?" Jael asked.

Sorath hobbled over to one of the large tables that was stacked with old tomes. I noticed a limp in his walk, something that should be easy for an angel to fix. I was about to ask when Dad put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. Touchy subject, then.

"I will give you the answer you seek in exchange for a favor, young Gale," Sorath said.

"What kind of favor?" I asked, curious.

"You will attempt to cure me of my ailment. I could hear you wondering about it, girl. In exchange for my help, you will try to do something about it."

I was taken aback. I usually kept my mind shielded (literally just building walls around my mind, mentally. Anyone can do it if they know how), and right now was no exception. Oh, heavens… if he can read my mind right now…

"You have a chink in your shields. I suggest you fix it before someone that wants to hurt you finds it."

Oh. That explains it. "I'll do it. I'll do my best to help you. Thank you for the advice as well, Sorath," I told the angel, bowing slightly.

It was standard courtesy to bow (or curtsy if you're in a dress) before older angels and those higher on the chain of command. Castiel has told me that "such formalities are unnecessary while we are at war," which was his way of telling me to cut the crap and stop wasting time when we worked together on seals.

"Try healing me now," Sorath told me.

"Are you sure th-" Dad started to say, but was cut off.

"Trust me, Jael. She needs to do this," Sorath told Dad.

I closed my eyes. First I would have to figure out what was wrong and then find a way to fix it. Healing isn't as easy as Castiel makes it seem, trust me. He's had me try healing people on several occasions, all of which were rather difficult for me, despite the wounds being fairly small.

I put a hand on Sorath's arm and let a small trickle of my grace go find the problem. The feeling started to rise up, but I forced it down. I had to do this. It took a minute to locate the problem, a badly broken leg that healed wrong and what seemed to be cuts in his wings. I decided to focus on his leg first. I used more of my grace to numb the area, a bit too much from the slight pain on my hand from the backlash.

"Focus, Gale. Sometimes it's better to use too little than too much grace," Sorath chided.

I focused on the injury. It would be easiest to just rebreak the bone and set it with my grace, but I didn't think that doing that was the right answer. I could try to reshape the bone, something that would be harder, but more efficient assuming that I got the right amount of grace doing the job. I'm going with option two. I sent a bit of grace and gradually increased the amount until I had just enough to do what I needed.

"Very good. You learn quickly," Sorath told me.

His leg now taken care of I shifted my attention to his wings. He had their physical form hidden, but I could sense the injury with my grace. To be honest, it felt like he got mauled by a bear or something.

"I'll need to see your wings to heal them," I told the angel.

"Good job noticing that with just your grace. Even some of the healers can't do that."

Sorath opened his wings, revealing long gashes in them that spanned from the top all the way to the bottom. Several feathers were at odd angles and blood was caked on the ones around the gashes. This was going to be harder. The feeling I get when I use my grace was fighting me now. It wanted, no, _needed_ to take over me. I tried holding it down. Just a bit longer. I just needed to hold out for a bit longer.

I focused on his wounds. I needed to heal the muscle first, then the skin, and finally coax new feathers to grow. I've never had to heal an angel's wings before, so this was going to be a ton of guessing how much grace I needed. Like before, I started small and numbed the area before moving on to healing. I had most of the first step done before the feeling overcame me. The feeling of pure calm and bliss. As I said, it was a high feeling. I lost all knowledge of what I was doing. All I knew was the feeling.

"Gale! Gale!" Jael yelled at me as he shook me awake.

I was on the ground. I guess I had fallen when I lost track of everything. Dad was kneeling next to me, a worried look on his face. Sorath was a little bit away, wings hidden once more, reading another book.

"Dad? What happened?" I asked, my voice dry and quiet.

"Sorath won't tell me. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine… I think."

Dad helped me stand up. Sorath closed his book after a moment.

"You were using only your grace to heal. I want you to try again, but this time instead of just using your grace use your soul as well," Sorath told me.

"How do I do that?" I asked, confused.

"From what the others have told me, it can be as simple as letting your grace flow past your heart to as difficult as finding where your soul is inside your body and taking power from it directly. It varies from Nephilim to Nephilim. Try doing it on your own first, then try to heal with it."

Sorath returned to the mat he was on when we came in and continued to read his book. I was at a loss of what to do. There was no way of telling what could or would work. Trial and error, I guess.

"Castiel is calling me. Send me a call when you want to go," Dad told me.

"See you when I'm done," I replied.

Dad disappeared in a flutter of wings. I ran a few possibilities through my head. Finding where the power of my soul is inside my body is probably the best idea. After I find it, I can try combining the power with my grace, instead of using my grace separate. And here comes the meditation…

 _October 17, 2008_

 _So I'm finally getting to understand why I feel wierd when I use my grace. I'm only using half of my power. I have to combine the power of my grace with the power of my soul. Is this why Nephilim are so strong? Or is it because of the feeling we get when we use only our grace? I have so many questions and nobody to answer them._

 _I'm working on finding the power of my soul. It's going to take a while but I have an angel, Sorath, keeping an eye on me and helping me. Dad had to go help Castiel with one of the seals, so I get to call for him when I'm done here. Or, you know, hitch a ride with Sorath._

 _Speaking of Castiel, he says there's going to be a seal he wants me to work on eleven days from now. I have eleven days to figure this out. No pressure, right? Yeah, who am I kidding? I'm stressed about this. I have to figure this out before then._

 _On a sidenote where I am is usually guarded by the archangel Raphael. Sorath told me that he was going to send the archangel away to hide my presence here. I am not excited to meet an archangel. I am certain that if I were to see him, I would die. No questions asked._

 _Gale Atkins_


	7. Chapter 7

**Spooky Scary… Angel in a Trenchcoat**

October 27, 2008

I closed my eyes as I once again tried to use the power of my soul along with my grace. I found that finding my soul's power was the easy part. Using that power… I'm still working on that part. I've been trying to do something simple, revealing my wings, and it hasn't worked yet. Sorath has offered some help, but mostly it's just been me doing trial and error. It's _so_ exhausting! Every now and then when I fail I get backlash from my grace, which has done a real number on me several times.

Mostly I'm glad that Sorath has been able to keep Raphael and the other angels away. I can only imagine how hard it would be to conceal my presence _and_ figure out how to do this.

Anyways, I was trying something new. The power of my soul was centered around my heart, which lead to this idea. I tried to pull some of the power away, just enough that I could work with it, and gently pushed it toward my grace through my veins. Most of the other times I've tried to take it directly there it's turned out for the worse (I am certain that Sorath is tired of healing me of the various injuries this gives me).

When the power was near enough, I sent a bit of my grace to join it. I got this far last time, but that time I had too much power. This time I made sure to have very little power from both my soul and my grace. Hopefully this will work better. I lead the power (through my veins, again) to my back where my wings are. A whoosh of air later, my wings were visible.

"I see you figured it out," Sorath told me, not looking up from his book.

"Took me long enough," I replied, redirecting the power back to hide my wings.

"You may want to note that you only need to draw half the power from your grace, not all of it. The power of your soul is more than that of your grace, so be careful to feel the power, not the amount, that you use. Practice with that, if you desire."

That was Sorath's way of telling me 'good job'. He can tell what I'm doing with my grace, even without looking. He's noticed my successes and failures, and has occasionally given me an idea or two on what to do next.

Over the next three hours I practiced, doing small things that ranged from revealing my wings to pulling a rock toward me. All the while I got better and better at sensing how much power I drew instead of the amount. After those three hours, I was relatively sure that I had the concept down.

"May I try healing again?" I asked.

In reply Sorath opened his wings, where his injuries were. I approached him and gently touched his left wing next to one of the gashes. When I had passed out I had started to heal them, but I had lost control of my power, causing more damage. Several of the wounds were bigger, and between two of them there was a section that had practically been skinned off.

Again I pulled a bit of power from my soul and from my grace and sent it down my arm. I was focusing on the deepest injuries first. Parts of the bones had been nicked when my grace went crazy, so those were my first order of business. I carefully used my grace (and soul. For simplicity, I'll just call it my grace. Just remember that it's both.) to get the cells to regenerate faster and fill in the nicks. That done, I focused on the muscle layer. I was going off of what Dad had sketched in the notebooks, which I was extremely grateful for.

Rebuilding the muscle was harder. I couldn't just encourage cell regeneration. I had to build up the muscle on my own. I started at one of the edges of a gash and started to have my grace replicate the muscle cells. Bit by bit, the muscle grew back. I repeated the process on the other gashes. This part took the longest, several minutes at least.

Next was rebuilding the thin layer of skin and encouraging new feathers to grow. Honestly, this was the easiest part. Skin regenerates easily, as the times when Castiel had me heal people showed. When the injuries were deeper, I struggled. Regrowing the feathers was a simple task as well. It only took a bit of my grace to encourage that. Once I was done I removed my hand and Sorath hid his wings.

"You did well. With proper instruction you could become one of the great healers, if you were not a Nephilim."

Over the past several days I have come to know that Sorath doesn't sugar-coat things. He says what he's thinking, something that has helped me several time.

"Thank you, Sorath. It has been wonderful learning what you had to teach me," I replied.

"Nonsense. You discovered what had to be done on your own. I only provided suggestions and the correct way."

I had also learned that Sorath was very modest.

"For which I thank you. I need to go, Castiel wants my help in a couple days. I hope he hasn't tried to find me these past couple days."

"Interesting…" Sorath said.

"Stop that!" I protested. I still had yet to fix the chink in my mental wall.

"Better fix that before Castiel finds it."

I quickly added another wall around my mind. With a pointed glare from me, Sorath put up his hands in surrender.

"My lips are sealed," he promised.

"I'm calling Dad," I said.

Sorath nodded, and went back to reading. I prayed to Jael, knowing that he would hear me. A moment later there was the sound of wings and Dad was there. He smiled at me.

"You did it?" he asked.

"Yup. Let's go before Anyone notices that someone flew in here."

"But that would give Gramps a nice puzzle…"

Nevertheless, he put a hand on my shoulder and flew me back to my hotel room. All my stuff was where I left it. I guessed that Dad had the hotel extend my time here.

"Stay safe. Call me if you need me," Dad told me before flying away.

October 28, 2008

"Hey Castiel," I greeted, upon hearing the flutter of wings behind me.

I was researching Samhain, the seal we were going to be protecting in a couple days. It never hurts to know more about your enemy.

"The witch is in Summertown, Tennessee," Castiel told me.

I quickly pulled up Google Maps on my laptop to check how long that drive would take. I was not surprised when it was twenty and a half hours.

"I can be there by the 30th. That alright?" I asked.

It was late in the day. I could get several hours in today, but most of it will have to be tomorrow, and even then I'll get in late.

"That is acceptable. I do have one question for you."

"What is it?"

"Do you know anything about the break-in to one of our old research facilities in Heaven?"

"When did it happen?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"As early as eleven days ago. Was it Jael?"

I sighed. He had me there. "Yes. I needed help, Dad knew I could get help there."

Castiel muttered something in enochian. I could only imagine that he was cursing Jael for putting him in this situation.

"Michael won't be pleased."

"Dad has said that too."

Castiel flew away, probably to go clean up the mess Jael made. I packed up, having a long drive ahead of me.

October 30, 2008

Castiel flew into my room at the hotel I was staying out. Only problem was that I had literally just woken up. Thankfully the angel was patient with me.

"G'mornin Cas," I mumbled into my pillow as I struggled to wake up the rest of the way.

"Good morning, Gale," Castiel replied.

It was early morning, and bright sunlight was streaming through the windows. It was my luck to have a window that faced the sunrise… I managed to get up, despite the sun shining through the curtains. I grabbed some clothes from my suitcase quickly.

"Give me a moment," I told Castiel on my way to the bathroom to change.

The angel nodded in response. I changed into one of my tunics, one with teal and copper colored abstract patterns on it, a worn pair of jeans, and a brown scarf. I returned to the main room to find Castiel sitting on the armchair that was in the room.

"So a witch, somewhere in the town, is going to raise Samhain tomorrow?" I asked.

Castiel nodded. "The witch is hidden from us. We need help finding who it is."

"Seems like I have my work cut out for me."

"Uriel is coming later. Make sure you avoid him."

"Lovely," I muttered. Hiding from an angel and hunting a witch. What could _possibly_ go wrong with that? ...Don't answer that question.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at that. Right, human slang is weird to him. He flew away, probably to meet up with Uriel. I sat down and tried to brainstorm ideas about who the witch could be. There were around eight hundred people in Summertown, and it would be a bear if I had to ask all of them. There has to be a link the will reveal something useful.

I knew that the raising of Samhain needed three sacrifices, one of which was probably the man that swallowed four razor blades (Castiel had dropped off a newspaper with that as the headline) that were hidden in one piece of candy. I guess I could start there and see if anything leads to more clues. I head out to Summertown to talk to Mrs. Wallace, the wife of the victim.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wallace. May I have a word with you?" I asked politely when Mrs Wallace opened the front door to her house.

"Who is this?" she countered.

"I'm Gale Atkins, a college student doing research on urban legends. I heard that you might know something about them."

"Come on in, then."

She let me inside and lead me to a beautiful living room. She sat down on the couch and invited me to sit across from her on a matching chair.

"May I offer my condolences for the loss of your husband?"

"Thank you. It's been hard, losing Luke."

"I apologise if this is too early, but my paper is due soon. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

"Go ahead. I remember the struggles of school and research."

"How many razor blades were there?"

"Four of them. I don't know how he swallowed all of them, or how they were all in one piece of candy. It was small, hardly big enough."

"Did the police find blades in any of the other candy pieces?"

"No… I don't think so. They haven't gotten back to me yet."

"Was there anyone that would want to harm anyone who ate the candy, or do you think it was just some hoodlum acting out?"

"I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt anyone else. We have such a peaceful town, there's no reason for us to be violent… except her."

"Pardon my asking, but who is she?"

"Tracy Davis. She was suspended from school a week ago for getting violent with the art teacher. But this is a bit much, even for her."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Wallace. I'm sure my professor won't expect this," I told the woman.

"Don't underestimate teachers, Miss Atkins. We're a sturdier bunch than you would think."

Mrs. Wallace showed me out. Time to go talk to the art teacher. I went to the high school, commonly known to teenagers as hell. The secretary let me in, under the pretense that I was a reporter doing an article on how video games can make teenagers violent. I headed to the art room, after getting directions from the secretary.

"Mr. Harding? I'm a reporter for a newspaper in Lawrenceburg. I'm doing a story on how video games can make teenagers violent. May I ask you a few questions?" I asked.

"Please, call me Don. Sure you can ask me questions," Mr. Harding replied.

"Is it true that you had problems with Tracy Davis about a week ago?"

"Yes. She got violent when I asked her to tone down her art."

"Tone down? In what way?"

"She was drawing killings, violent and gory ones. Some of them looked like rituals. She would draw herself in the middle of them, participating. Some of the other students were being disturbed, so I asked her to cut back on the violent stuff. That's when she tried to claw my eyes out."

"Do you have any idea why she would draw this stuff?"

"I don't."

"May I see some of her artwork? For the article?" I asked, hoping that I could.

"Sure. I kept her sketchbook."

He went behind his desk and pulled out a worn black sketchbook. I opened it, and immediately saw what he was talking about.

"I've never seen these symbols before. May I take a picture? They may be from some video game."

In reality, I knew what they were, however vaguely. They were old Celtic symbols. I had no idea what they meant.

"Go right ahead."

I snapped a few photos with my camera.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Harding. I hope you have a nice day," I told the teacher.

"Good luck with your article," he replied.

I left the building. Tracy Davis seemed to be our witch. There was something fishy about the teacher as well. Why did he keep her sketchbook instead of throwing it away? He seemed a bit on edge when I asked to take some pictures as well. There could be more to this than I first thought.

On my way out of the school I noticed Sam and Dean about to go in. They were in their FBI suits. Dean looked so uncomfortable! Sorry, it's fun seeing straight-face Winchester in discomfort.

"Hey guys," I greeted them.

"Hey Gale. What brings you here?" Sam asked.

"Seal. Hunting a witch. You guys?"

"We're hunting a witch as well. You were talking to the art teacher?" Dean asked.

"Yup. It seems like Tracy Davis is the witch. Though I have to say, the art teacher was a bit fishy."

"Tracy was there when the second vic died," Sam told me.

"She already got the second one down? I have to work faster, I guess."

"Second one?" Sam asked.

"Samhain, Sammy," I replied.

Sam scowled. He hated me calling him Sammy which is exactly why I do it every so often to tease him. I jumped a bit, suddenly feeling the power of an angel nearby.

"I have to go. Catch you guys later!" I told them.

I went to my car and quickly drove away. I was guessing that I sensed Uriel. It was a bad idea to see him, so I left. Here's to hoping that he didn't notice me. I was heading towards the hotel I was staying at when I heard something.

I blinked and heard wings. Uriel was in the passenger seat of my car. Crap.

I'm dead. So very dead.

 _October 30, 2008_

 _Working on saving Samhain's seal right now. It's been a rollercoaster of a week that lead up to it, though. I (finally) mastered using my grace on the 27th, found out the seal was going to be broken in Summertown, Tennessee on the 28th, got here super late the 29th, and woke up with Castiel in the room today._

 _I never get a break. On the plus side I figured out who the witch is. Downside: Uriel found me. I am relatively certain he's going to kill me. I'll try to talk him out of it. Either that or I'll make an attempt at flight._

 _I'll write more if I'm alive tomorrow._

 _Gale Atkins_


	8. Chapter 8

**You Wanna Fight? After the Seal, Bro.**

October 30, 2008

I almost swerved into the other lane of traffic but thankfully I was able to avoid that, _narrowly._ I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Uriel. To say the least, he did not look pleased with the situation. My eyes flicked to the clock quickly. 2:27 pm, October 30th, 2008.

"Good afternoon?" I asked tentatively.

Who knows what'll set him off. Here's to hoping that it won't be me.

"It has been a long time since one of your kind has walked the earth," Uriel said.

Right. Be quiet and let the angel talk.

"Why are you protecting the Seals?"

"I live on this planet too. It's no secret that the Seals breaking is the end of the world. Call it what you want, but I'm doing this for me, my family, and my friends," I replied.

"Michael made it clear that Nephilim children were not to be born."

There was a moment of silence.

"I can see why," I muttered.

The whole 'using your grace with your soul' thing was hard. Without the help I got from Sorath, I wouldn't have been able to do it.

"Michael was not pleased when he discovered that Jael had broken into Sorath's lab. He was furious when Jael let slip about you."

"Lovely."

Uriel raised an eyebrow at that. It's so easy to forget that angels don't understand all the intricacies of human behavior. I've gotten used to being around Castiel (to whom I have explained several figures of speech to before) and not having to explain my mannerisms all the time.

"It's… just a thing we say. Can I ask a quick question?"

The angel just nodded.

"Are you going to kill me, or are you waiting to see how bad I screw up with the Seal?"

Uriel flew away, if that counts as a response. I was willing to bet that him leaving was a let's-see-how-bad-you-mess-up-and-if-it's-bad-enough-I'll-smite-you-to-hell-and-back. Fun times, right? Note the sarcasm.

I drove the rest of the way to the hotel thinking over what Uriel had told me. First of all, the head archangel (great grandfather, or something like that) knew I existed. It seems like the Seal is a test. Second, it sounded like Michael was not entirely pleased with Dad. I pray that he's alright. I find that funny, praying that an angel is OK.

I pulled out my laptop and started searching Tracy Davis. I was going to go after her tomorrow night, when she's out. I imagine that she's going to be hiding tonight. I also searched the teacher, Don Harding. Something was off about him, and boy was I right to look him up. Up until five years ago Don Harding didn't exist. Anywhere. I did an image search with a sneak photo I took of him.

Pictures further back than the first camera popped up. They weren't just any old people, though. They were Don Harding.

There wasn't just one witch, but two. It was my job to stop both of them before midnight tomorrow or I _will die._

October 31, 2008

I splashed cold water on my face before I got changed for a day of hunting not one, but two witches. Last night Castiel had popped by and warned me that Dad had told Michael about me, and that some of the angels might target me. He was surprised when I told him about Uriel's little 'visit' while I was driving.

I pulled on a pair of leggings, a red tunic with long sleeves, my shoes, and a dark red knit hat that I had bought a week ago due to the weather getting a bit chilly. I grabbed my bag and went out to my car after eating at the continental breakfast that was served at the hotel. Time to go hunt some witch.

I had found Tracy's MySpace, and had seen a recent post about spending today at a mall down in Lawrenceburg (small city a few miles south of here), and wouldn't be back until later this afternoon. I was stuck watching the school most of the morning to keep an eye on Mr. Harding, in any case.

At three the students filtered out of the school. I needed to act fast. If Mr. Harding completed the ritual (or Tracy, for that matter) I'd have to deal with Samhain and a bunch of angry angels. I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and entered the building, unnoticed by all the students. It only took a small surge of my grace to put all the cameras out as I walked the halls to the art room.

"Mr. Harding?" I called out when I reached the art room.

The room was dark and quiet, eerily so. I could hear the hum of one of the kilns going, but beside that there was no sound. I pulled a knife out of my bag. Something was off here. Slowly I walked around the large room. A few minutes later I heard faint chanting coming from a supply closet. The chant sounded eerily similar to the spell that would kill its target. What? I've dealt with witches before.

I stepped on a squeaky area on the floor, the sound piercing the room. The chanting broke off for a moment before it resumed, faster than before. I opened the door to the closet very cautiously. The room was small, and had an altar up against one of the walls. Mr. Harding was standing in front of the altar with Tracy next to him. I took a step forward to end it, but the spell finished right then.

I coughed. I couldn't breathe. What was…? Mud came up the next time I coughed. The spell. Their target was me. I coughed again, falling to my knees. Hex bag… somewhere on me. I fumbled with my bag, the only place it could be hidden to target me. Black spots danced in my vision as I struggled to breathe.

I grabbed the hex bag clumsily. I tried to calm myself down enough to use my grace, but it wasn't working. The only way to stop this was to burn the hex bag, and I didn't have a lighter or matches on me.

I choked one last time before passing out.

I came to a while later, probably no more than two hours. Castiel was standing there, watching me, as was Jael and Uriel. There was no sign of either witch. I took a deep breath, appreciating how nice it was to be able to breathe again. After I moment I looked up at the three angels.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You asphyxiated," Castiel replied.

"And the witches?"

"Dead."

"It wasn't nearly painful enough," Jael spat, glaring at the remains of the altar, which I noticed was smashed and thoroughly burned.

"Jael," Castiel said, warning Dad.

"Michael wishes to talk to you," Dad told me.

"Best not to keep him waiting," I replied, getting up from where I had been on the floor.

Uriel grabbed my arm firmly. I suppose he wasn't going to take any chances with me. Dad rolled his eyes at the gesture, but didn't say anything. The three angels flew somewhere, I'm not sure where.

I do know, however, that it was one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever been in. Huge marble columns went up forty feet into the air to support a giant vaulted ceiling. Chandeliers hung down, lighting the room with a gentle light. The walls were beautiful panels of wood, and had several paintings hanging from them. On the far wall was a giant window that overlooked the city below. The floor was polished marble. A soft gold colored rug in the center of three couches.

A few angels were in the room, speaking in hushed voices to each other. One stood at the window, and even with how bad I am at seeing trueform angels, I could see his wings. I could tell that he was Michael.

"Come," Castiel told me as he walked towards the archangel.

Dad and Uriel followed, and so did I (that happens when you're being dragged by an angel. You tend to follow them). Heads turned as we passed, rumors had probably spread about me. When we were close by, Michael turned to face us.

"Welcome back, Castiel, Uriel," Michael said. In a bit of a darker tone he added, "Jael."

I remained silent. From what I was able to tell from what Castiel and Jael have told me Michael was not an angel to be messed with. I was treading dangerous waters.

"Ordinarily Uriel would have smitten you, Nephilim," Michael told me.

The way he said it was casual, like saying that you were going to spend time with your family. There was a note of authority, and the looming threat of _that could still happen if you step out of line._

"Given the circumstances you can benefit us. Uriel tells me you were protecting one of the Seals when he found you. Is that so?"

"Yes," I replied, quietly.

Michael was intimidating. He had the power here. I was _nothing_ next to him. Right now, I might as well have been powerless.

"How many Seals have you prevented from breaking?"

I thought for a moment. "Twelve."

"Uriel, Castiel, you may leave," Michael ordered.

He said 'may', but his tone said 'will'. The two angels left, flying to Heaven knows where. I glanced over at Dad awkwardly. Jael was looking down at the floor and I could swear that he looked guilty.

"Jael," Michael said, catching Dad's attention.

"Hm?" he asked in response.

The older angel said something in enochian and Dad flew off. He offered me a smile before holding out a hand to me.

"Come, I wish to speak to you privately," he told me.

I took his hand. He flew to a beautiful garden. There was a small pond nearby with a little creek flowing in and out of it. Flowers of all kinds grew around in the area, as did a few trees. A stone path lead through the garden towards a house that I could see a ways down the path. I noticed a stone bench was across the path from the lake.

"What do you know about our culture?" Michael asked, taking a seat on the bench.

"Just what Castiel has told me and what Dad wrote down in some notebooks," I replied, taking the seat next to the older angel.

"Can you tell me what the most important thing to an angel is?"

"Following the commands of God?"

Michael shook his head. "Family is more important. He is our Father and He taught us the importance of family."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, skeptical.

"You're part of my family."

I was shocked. Was that acceptance?

"Castiel and Jael have told me about how you fight to protect others. You remind me of my wife, Caphriel. She was like you when she was younger."

"She sounds wonderful," I told Michael, "I'd love to meet her.

"She passed on many years ago," Michael replied, a sad look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"You're welcome to come here anytime."

 _October 31, 2008_

 _I (almost) got the job done. Tracy or Mr. Harding had slipped a hex bag into my bag and used a spell on me. I passed out, but Castiel, Uriel, and Jael found me and killed the witches. I think Jael did most of the killing, though. He sounded really mad, like they had overstepped a boundary. Little did I know that the boundary was me._

 _Family is important to angels. I guess Dad went full overprotective/avenging on the witches when he saw me unconscious. Castiel had healed me (I woke up just as the healing was finishing, I recognized the feeling of his grace), which I was grateful for._

 _I got to meet Michael. I expected him to be different. More blood, fire, and wrath, and less kind, caring, and normal. It was amazing._

 _Gale Atkins_


	9. Chapter 9

**A Word to the Wise**

November 13, 2008

I woke up with a start. I could sense something in the room. Something that wasn't supposed to be there. Cautious, I got out of bed and fumbled for the dagger I kept near my bed. I held it out in front of me as I approached the door that would lead to the rest of the house. Yes, I was at home in Kansas City.

And something was terribly wrong.

I opened the door, only to find a cloud of black smoke. A demon. It figures it would be stuck here, I had salt imbedded in the bottom of my door, and there was a hollow compartment inside the door with salt in it. My windows had the same treatment, making my room pretty much demon-proof. Come to think of it, all the door and windows had the same treatment, with the added security on the front door of a iron line just inside the door.

I would have continued to consider how the demon got in, but I didn't have time.

It flew at me as I shakily tried to remember the exorcism I had memorized when I was seventeen.

"Exoramius te omnis…"

I was too late. The demon managed to possess me (or attempt to do so) before I could get any further. As a note to myself: learn how to smite demons ASAP, exorcisms take too long.

That wasn't the end of it. Being a half angel has it's perks, and one is that there is a chance that I can beat the demon. Assuming, of course that I'm stronger than it. If I flood the demon with my grace, it will effectively be a smite. The only downside is that I could die. If I could figure it out, I could use my grace to push out lower level demons, I'm not strong enough to really take care of the upper demons (Azazel was one such demon). Here's to hoping that I can deal with this.

The fight was over before it started. The demon was Bundon, one of the oldest demons, Lilith's right hand man. There was no way, physical or otherwise, that I could dream of taking him on alone. There was no lack of effort, though. I fought tooth and nail to stop him. Truth was that I couldn't. Now all I can do is watch and hope that someone realizes what happened.

Bundon left my house and walked out into the street. Suddenly, we were somewhere else entirely. He had taken us to an old abandoned building with a few people I immediately recognized as angels milling around. They were working on something, a Seal, probably. My heart sank when I saw Dad with them.

"Gale, what are you doing?" he asked, approaching Bundon when he noticed us.

 _No Dad. It's not me. Stay back!_ I cried out in my mind. But Bundon was in control. I couldn't warn him.

"How did you find this place?"

"You're annoying," Bundon said, completely emotionless.

With a flick of his wrist Dad went flying into one of the tables that the angels were working at. The rest of the angels stopped what they were doing. Many of them summoned their angel blades, weapons made from celestial materials. Dad got up from where Bundon had thrown him.

"What did you do to my daughter, you bastard," Dad growled. To one of the others he said, "Mihr, go find Cas."

Bundon smirked. "Oh, this pathetic excuse for a Nephilim? Just using her, like she was always meant to be."

"Gale is not some tool to be used!" Dad snarled.

"But in the war against demons it was perfectly alright to use them as such? Admit it, Jael. All she is to you is some baggage that gets you in trouble with Michael."

With that, Dad charged at Bundon, pure anger in his eyes. They say that angels are soldiers. They can say that, and never know how inadequate a word that is to describe how an angel fights. An angel is love, wrath, peace, and protectiveness wrapped up into the shape of a man. An angel is terrifying when angered. They fight with pure strength.

At this very moment, all that strength, love, and wrath were turned against Bundon. The other angels were standing back, probably some kind of unspoken command. Or it was because Bundon insulted me and now it was a matter of family. Maybe it was right for Dad to get to fight this fight, and not another angel.

Bundon dodged every strike Dad sent his way. He made no move to attack back, just to move easily out of the way every time Dad attacked him.

"Be careful, Jael. You might hurt your precious little dirty half breed," Bundon taunted.

That's about the point where everything goes completely blank. I only have a brief recollection of a bright flash of light and then voices fading into the background. Only one stood out.

"What happened to her?"

The voice was worried. Scared, almost. It wasn't Dad, that much I could tell. It was someone else. Someone important. After that realization I blacked out.

November 17, 2008

There were quiet voices when I came to. I didn't make any move to open my eyes. The pain of just waking up was enough. Everything hurt, my chest most of all. The closest thing I could relate the pain to was massive grace backlash, although even that had never been this bad. Of course, I had been careful after adding the power of my soul to not have a backlash. Maybe that's what happened?

The blinding light I saw… I've seen it before. Think… think… where did I see it? It was recently, maybe last month sometime? Thinking of time, I have no idea what day it is.

I cracked one eye open to see how bright the light was. Not very, as I found out. Still, I let my one eye adjust before I opened the other. I turned my head toward the soft voices. Jael, Castiel, and Michael were by the door in the large room I was in. It was a room I remember, the one I've stayed in twice. It's at Michael's place, and it's where I've gone when I needed some peace and quiet.

I opened my chapped lips to speak, but no sound came out. Someone had noticed the movement and brought it to the attention of the other two angels. Jael came towards where I lay on my bed. He touched my arm gently and I felt the touch of his grace as it eased the dehydration I was feeling.

"How are you feeling?" he asked me quietly.

"Thirsty. In pain. What… what happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Bundon possessed you. Mihr had gone and brought Castiel on Jael's orders, for whatever reason, and Castiel smote the demon," Michael explained.

"When?"

"Two days ago, the fifteenth," Jael told me.

"It was the… thirteenth…"

"When he possessed you?" Castiel asked.

I nodded weakly.

"Rest now, Gale. We'll talk about this later," Jael told me.

I closed my eyes and drifted off.

November 19, 2008

"Why _did_ you bring ask Mihr to summon Castiel?" Michael asked.

"Don't you know?" Jael answered.

I could hear the raised eyebrow from Michael. I was 'sleeping' at the moment, and so far neither angel had clued in.

"He fancies her."

I almost got up right then and told Dad how wrong he was. Castiel couldn't like me. I was just some piece of Nephilim trash like Bundon had said. I'm just a tool to be used. All they want is for me to be ready to be used again.

"What do you think of it?" Michael asked after a pause.

"I believe the term is 'a match made in heaven,' to go by kids' vernacular."

The unspoken 'really?' hung in the air for a moment.

"She loves him. As far as I can see, from the moment she met him. Almost looks like a cherub's job to me," Dad clarified.

"As you know it's not."

"I'm just waiting for one of them to ask the other out."

 _November 19, 2008_

 _I woke up today for a while. I'm still healing from what happened. Sorath came by some time ago to check up on me. He says it's just a side effect from being possessed and having the demon smitten while it was inside me. It was nice seeing him again. I had gotten him to tell me a story of something. He told me about when he was a young angel and how he would sneak into the library to read all the time. One time Michael caught him trying to fly up to get a book on a high shelf! The story changed how I thought about the archangel._

 _There is something that worries me. I'm missing two days. Two days with a demon inside of me. Two days where anything could have happened. Castiel is checking with some other groups of angels to see if they saw me during those days. If not someone'll have to look through my memories. That'd be the only way to tell what I've done._

 _A word to the wise: don't think you're completely safe. There is always some detail you might overlook. A small detail like that lead to this mess._

 _Gale Atkins_


	10. Chapter 10

**My schedule for the next six weeks is chaotic due to drivers ed. I have a backlog of three chapters that I'll post during this time, but don't expect frequent updates until after Thanksgiving.** **What Have I Done?**

November 21, 2008

I watched Dad out of the corner of my eye as he read a book. I was getting better, bit by bit. The backlash of what happened had wreaked havoc on my body. It disrupted my nervous and cardiovascular systems (which makes me glad for angelic healing powers. Without them I would be dead), caused some of my grace to go rouge (broken arm from that, easy fix), and has ironically made me stronger.

It sounds stupid, thinking that me almost dying made me stronger, but it's true. Dad had asked me to show him my wings so he could check for injuries yesterday and doing that caused backlash. It wasn't a lot, just enough to shock me. My guess is that trials like that make my soul stronger. I'll have to wait for Sorath to come today before I can know for sure.

"Hey, Dad," I said, catching his attention.

"Hm?" Dad asked, looking up at me.

"Did Castiel get back from finding out what happened yet?"

Dad flinched. "... No, not yet."

"How bad is it?" I muttered, suddenly downcast.

Dad closed the book and came over to the couch I was laying on. He sat on the armrest by my feet (something Michael yelled at him for on the times he's seen Dad do it) before he answered.

"Very bad. As far as Cas has discovered the demon wiped out several groups of angels that were protecting various Seals. Thirteen Seals broke in the time you were missing."

This was my fault. If I hadn't opened the door to my room, if I had made sure that the house was 100% demon-proof, if I had only been stronger. I was to blame for thirteen Seals breaking. That was 36 down, thirty to go.

Dad's eyes softened. "It's not your fault, Gale. I don't blame you for what happens, neither does Michael."

"I wasn't strong enough to defeat him. I caused this," I whispered, "I'm just some piece of Nephilim trash like he said."

Dad got up faster than lightning. His eyes burned with a gentle anger. "Don't ever say that again! You are Gale Atkins, daughter of Lexi Atkins and the angel Jael. Nephilim isn't a word that describes you! You're a strong young woman that is taking a stand! Don't let anyone tell you different, especially not a demon like Bundon!"

I didn't respond. Dad ran his hands through his short black hair before wrapping me in a warm embrace. I heard his wings unfurl and felt them wrap around me as well. Dad had pulled me up from where I was lying so I was sitting up and pulled against his shoulder.

"I love you Gale," he told me quietly.

I felt a tear fall from my cheek. I let out a quiet sob. Maybe Dad was right.

"I love you too, Dad," I replied quietly through my silent tears.

I was grateful when I woke up. My dream still echoed in my head, always the same words… _dirty half breed._ I pulled myself into a small circle and closed my eyes. It was just a dream. It was only a dream. That isn't real. But it feels so real…

There was a gentle knock on the door. I got up off of my bed before answering.

"Who is it?" I asked. My voice was only slightly shaky from my dream.

"Castiel. May I speak with you?" the angel replied.

I glanced down at the tank top and sweatpants I was wearing. "Sure."

Castiel seemed to glow. This was my first time seeing him in heaven (when I wasn't half unconscious), and let me tell you, that made a difference. His blue eyes seemed bluer and brighter, he held himself higher, and his usually neat hair was messed up again, making it seem like a dark halo around his head. I struggled to not stare at him.

"What's up?" I asked, crossing my arms and finding sudden interest in the floor.

"The ceiling. Why do you ask?" Castiel replied, confused.

Right, I never explained that. I smiled slightly. "It's just another way to ask how someone is doing."

"I am well. Have you recovered?" he replied.

"It's hard not to with an archangel and my dad constantly asking if I'm OK. I'll say this, it could have been worse."

"Indeed."

I let a moment pass before asking a question. "What did you want to talk about?"

Castiel got nervous. "I was wondering… if you'd like to go visit the Garden with me."

That got me confused. I went out into the garden all the time. Wait… the way he said it, capital-G garden. Is he talking about the Garden of Eden? Why would he want to take me with him? Why show me it?

"Sure. I'll have to check with Dad, he's been a bit overprotective since Bundon."

"Alright. I'll be in the library."

"Hey, Castiel. What time is it?" I asked before he left.

"It is just after 11:00 in the morning," Castiel told me.

Holy crap I slept in. I went over to my dresser in the room after Castiel had left and I closed the door. I pulled out one of the outfits, a white tunic and a matching long white skirt. I pulled on a pair of silver colored flats before leaving the room. I found Dad in Michael's kitchen, seeming to be trying to cook pancakes. I do mean seeming to try.

The pancakes were burned. The ones on the pan were burning. The batter was thick enough to have the whisk sticking straight up. Dad was in the middle of talking to Michael and not paying attention to the food.

"Um… Dad? The pancakes are burning," I told him as I entered the room.

Dad turned to the stove and snapped his fingers, making the mess disappear.

"Let's not ever talk about that ever again," he suggested.

I smiled and nodded. Michael sighed before he snapped some food into existence (I'm not sure how it works. I'll have to talk to Dad about that.) for my breakfast.

"Next time, Jael, pay attention to what you're doing," Michael reprimanded.

Dad pulled off the best kicked puppy look I've ever seen on person, and trust me my little brother could pull off a good kicked puppy look.

"Go on, eat," Dad told me after he was done looking for pity from the older angel.

Michael had made a simple meal of scrambled eggs and bacon. Let me tell you this, you haven't had eggs and bacon until you've had some of Michael's. I guess it's just that food in heaven tastes better (I've noticed it in the things they've been feeding me the past few days, they're way better than anything on Earth. Sorry, Mom.), but it could just be that Michael is a good cook. After I was done the archangel made the dishes disappear.

"Hey Dad, Castiel asked me to go to the Garden with him. You OK with that?" I asked.

I barely heard the quiet "About time," from Dad.

"Sure. Go ahead. I'll just stay here and bug Gra-" Dad said with a huge grin. He only stopped dead when Michael gave him a hard glare.

I smiled before leaving the room to go meet up with Castiel. Michael had a large library in his house. It was nothing compared to the one in the main square, but it was still bigger than most libraries I've seen. The room was large and two of the walls were covered in bookshelves that reached the ceiling fifteen feet up. There were some smaller shelves in the middle of the room, each standing at most five feet. Against the two other walls were some couches and chairs with tables by them. Some paintings hung from the walls as well. The room was lit up despite the lack of lamps or other artificial light sources.

Castiel was sitting on one of the couches reading some book. As I walked to go to where he was I couldn't help but notice how the scenes in the painting changed to show what I would see if I were actually where I was standing. I've seen other paintings like these throughout the house, and I asked about them once. Michael just said that they were windows into someone's heaven. Anyways, Castiel closed the book when he heard me coming close.

"Return," he told the book.

The book literally flew across the room and put itself neatly on a bookshelf, where I assume it came from. Castiel stood up and smiled at me.

"What did Jael say?" he asked.

"He said I could go," I replied.

I left out the part where Dad looked like a child that had just been given a bucket full of candy. I want to figure out why before I talk about it to anyone.

"May I?" he asked me, holding out a hand for me to take.

My guess is that he's asking to fly us there. Good call on his part. I still have no clue about how to fly. I put my hand in his and I felt him fly us to a different place.

The Garden was beautiful. The grass was a beautiful green and perfectly kept. Huge trees were growing around, creating shade from the warm sunlight. Flowers of all shades of reds, yellows, oranges, and any other color imaginable grew in various places. Greenery was among the flowers too, accenting and highlighting the natural beauty of it all. Everything was placed expertly so nothing looked out of place, like it often did on Earth. There were many animals around of all kinds. Hawks and falcons flew overhead, snakes hung in the trees lazily, lions slept under the sun, and cows grazed on the soft grass.

In short, it was amazing. Castiel watched as I looked around a soft smile gracing his features. I loved the way his eyes crinkled a little bit with the smile, almost like they were smiling too. Speaking of his eyes, I swear I saw a look of longing in them.

"It's so beautiful," I said, spinning in a circle to see everything again.

"Indeed it is," Castiel replied. "May I ask how much you know about angels' culture?"

"What part? Dad gave me a bunch of notebooks filled with stuff."

"Courting."

"Nothing, why?"

Castiel was silent for a second before he motioned for me to follow as he started to walk through the Garden.

"It's customary to take one you wish to court to the Garden," Castiel started.

Oh. That's why Dad was so happy. Wait… back up the train. Castiel wants to court me? I mean, what? That's crazy talk! Shutting up now so I can hear the rest.

"Courting for angels means more than it does to humans. Humans treat it so carelessly now. For angels it's a commitment to another. It's a sign of devotion to your beloved."

Silence passed for a moment. I was struggling to put the pieces of _why_ this was happening together.

"So you want to court me?" I asked, seeing if I was understanding this correctly.

Castiel simply nodded, seeming to be embarrassed.

"Any other formalities?"

A shake of his head.

I looked at Castiel for a moment. His dark hair was still messy, just the way it was when I first met him. His blue eyes were downcast, but I knew that if I looked into them I would practically see the depths of the ocean. His lips were parted slightly as I've noticed he tends to do when he waits for me to reply to a question. His long trench coat open, as it always was revealing the suit he had on underneath. As usual, his tie was loose. He was perfect. Everything about him was so perfect, and I was the opposite of that.

Despite wanting to say yes I didn't deserve it. I was a weak little Nephilim. I had so many problems, some of which I was still learning about. I failed to protect some of the Seals, and thirteen were broken while a demon had me possessed. Castiel deserved better than me. He deserved another angel, someone that wasn't as flawed as the broken Nephilim I am.

I looked away. "I can't. I don't deserve someone as good as you."

Castiel stopped walking. He gently moved my chin so I was looking at him. His eyes were full of love, love that I knew I felt deep down. Love that I was struggling against.

"If we only got what we deserved I would never have met such a wonderful woman," Castiel told me, looking me straight in the eye.

The love I felt for him broke free of my control and I hugged him tightly. A silent tear (or more, it was hard to tell) fell down my cheek. Castiel returned the warm embrace.

"I love you Cas," I whispered.

Cas replied in quiet enochian.

 _November 21, 2008_

 _If I were to quote Dad I would write "It finally happened!" but I won't. Cas basically asked me out today. I almost said no. He's so much better than me. Right now I'm just a broken Nephilim, looking for her place. Cas countered that with saying that he wouldn't have met such a wonderful person if we only got what we deserve. Looking back, I agree with him._

 _The universe judged me for being a Nephilim. Other than Mom, Kade, and Derek, Cas was the first person that knew the truth that gave me a chance. Before that I always hunted alone because monsters knew what I was. They judged me when they saw me. That never ended well for them, to say the least. I'm glad Cas did that. I'm grateful for the chance at life he gave me._

 _Gale Atkins_


	11. Chapter 11

**I was smiling when I wrote this chapter. Prepare for cuteness.** 10- What Have I Done?

November 21, 2008

I watched Dad out of the corner of my eye as he read a book. I was getting better, bit by bit. The backlash of what happened had wreaked havoc on my body. It disrupted my nervous and cardiovascular systems (which makes me glad for angelic healing powers. Without them I would be dead), caused some of my grace to go rouge (broken arm from that, easy fix), and has ironically made me stronger.

It sounds stupid, thinking that me almost dying made me stronger, but it's true. Dad had asked me to show him my wings so he could check for injuries yesterday and doing that caused backlash. It wasn't a lot, just enough to shock me. My guess is that trials like that make my soul stronger. I'll have to wait for Sorath to come today before I can know for sure.

"Hey, Dad," I said, catching his attention.

"Hm?" Dad asked, looking up at me.

"Did Castiel get back from finding out what happened yet?"

Dad flinched. "... No, not yet."

"How bad is it?" I muttered, suddenly downcast.

Dad closed the book and came over to the couch I was laying on. He sat on the armrest by my feet (something Michael yelled at him for on the times he's seen Dad do it) before he answered.

"Very bad. As far as Cas has discovered the demon wiped out several groups of angels that were protecting various Seals. Thirteen Seals broke in the time you were missing."

This was my fault. If I hadn't opened the door to my room, if I had made sure that the house was 100% demon-proof, if I had only been stronger. I was to blame for thirteen Seals breaking. That was 36 down, thirty to go.

Dad's eyes softened. "It's not your fault, Gale. I don't blame you for what happens, neither does Michael."

"I wasn't strong enough to defeat him. I caused this," I whispered, "I'm just some piece of Nephilim trash like he said."

Dad got up faster than lightning. His eyes burned with a gentle anger. "Don't ever say that again! You are Gale Atkins, daughter of Lexi Atkins and the angel Jael. Nephilim isn't a word that describes you! You're a strong young woman that is taking a stand! Don't let anyone tell you different, especially not a demon like Bundon!"

I didn't respond. Dad ran his hands through his short black hair before wrapping me in a warm embrace. I heard his wings unfurl and felt them wrap around me as well. Dad had pulled me up from where I was lying so I was sitting up and pulled against his shoulder.

"I love you Gale," he told me quietly.

I felt a tear fall from my cheek. I let out a quiet sob. Maybe Dad was right.

"I love you too, Dad," I replied quietly through my silent tears.

I was grateful when I woke up. My dream still echoed in my head, always the same words… _dirty half breed._ I pulled myself into a small circle and closed my eyes. It was just a dream. It was only a dream. That isn't real. But it feels so real…

There was a gentle knock on the door. I got up off of my bed before answering.

"Who is it?" I asked. My voice was only slightly shaky from my dream.

"Castiel. May I speak with you?" the angel replied.

I glanced down at the tank top and sweatpants I was wearing. "Sure."

Castiel seemed to glow. This was my first time seeing him in heaven (when I wasn't half unconscious), and let me tell you, that made a difference. His blue eyes seemed bluer and brighter, he held himself higher, and his usually neat hair was messed up again, making it seem like a dark halo around his head. I struggled to not stare at him.

"What's up?" I asked, crossing my arms and finding sudden interest in the floor.

"The ceiling. Why do you ask?" Castiel replied, confused.

Right, I never explained that. I smiled slightly. "It's just another way to ask how someone is doing."

"I am well. Have you recovered?" he replied.

"It's hard not to with an archangel and my dad constantly asking if I'm OK. I'll say this, it could have been worse."

"Indeed."

I let a moment pass before asking a question. "What did you want to talk about?"

Castiel got nervous. "I was wondering… if you'd like to go visit the Garden with me."

That got me confused. I went out into the garden all the time. Wait… the way he said it, capital-G garden. Is he talking about the Garden of Eden? Why would he want to take me with him? Why show me it?

"Sure. I'll have to check with Dad, he's been a bit overprotective since Bundon."

"Alright. I'll be in the library."

"Hey, Castiel. What time is it?" I asked before he left.

"It is just after 11:00 in the morning," Castiel told me.

Holy crap I slept in. I went over to my dresser in the room after Castiel had left and I closed the door. I pulled out one of the outfits, a white tunic and a matching long white skirt. I pulled on a pair of silver colored flats before leaving the room. I found Dad in Michael's kitchen, seeming to be trying to cook pancakes. I do mean seeming to try.

The pancakes were burned. The ones on the pan were burning. The batter was thick enough to have the whisk sticking straight up. Dad was in the middle of talking to Michael and not paying attention to the food.

"Um… Dad? The pancakes are burning," I told him as I entered the room.

Dad turned to the stove and snapped his fingers, making the mess disappear.

"Let's not ever talk about that ever again," he suggested.

I smiled and nodded. Michael sighed before he snapped some food into existence (I'm not sure how it works. I'll have to talk to Dad about that.) for my breakfast.

"Next time, Jael, pay attention to what you're doing," Michael reprimanded.

Dad pulled off the best kicked puppy look I've ever seen on person, and trust me my little brother could pull off a good kicked puppy look.

"Go on, eat," Dad told me after he was done looking for pity from the older angel.

Michael had made a simple meal of scrambled eggs and bacon. Let me tell you this, you haven't had eggs and bacon until you've had some of Michael's. I guess it's just that food in heaven tastes better (I've noticed it in the things they've been feeding me the past few days, they're way better than anything on Earth. Sorry, Mom.), but it could just be that Michael is a good cook. After I was done the archangel made the dishes disappear.

"Hey Dad, Castiel asked me to go to the Garden with him. You OK with that?" I asked.

I barely heard the quiet "About time," from Dad.

"Sure. Go ahead. I'll just stay here and bug Gra-" Dad said with a huge grin. He only stopped dead when Michael gave him a hard glare.

I smiled before leaving the room to go meet up with Castiel. Michael had a large library in his house. It was nothing compared to the one in the main square, but it was still bigger than most libraries I've seen. The room was large and two of the walls were covered in bookshelves that reached the ceiling fifteen feet up. There were some smaller shelves in the middle of the room, each standing at most five feet. Against the two other walls were some couches and chairs with tables by them. Some paintings hung from the walls as well. The room was lit up despite the lack of lamps or other artificial light sources.

Castiel was sitting on one of the couches reading some book. As I walked to go to where he was I couldn't help but notice how the scenes in the painting changed to show what I would see if I were actually where I was standing. I've seen other paintings like these throughout the house, and I asked about them once. Michael just said that they were windows into someone's heaven. Anyways, Castiel closed the book when he heard me coming close.

"Return," he told the book.

The book literally flew across the room and put itself neatly on a bookshelf, where I assume it came from. Castiel stood up and smiled at me.

"What did Jael say?" he asked.

"He said I could go," I replied.

I left out the part where Dad looked like a child that had just been given a bucket full of candy. I want to figure out why before I talk about it to anyone.

"May I?" he asked me, holding out a hand for me to take.

My guess is that he's asking to fly us there. Good call on his part. I still have no clue about how to fly. I put my hand in his and I felt him fly us to a different place.

The Garden was beautiful. The grass was a beautiful green and perfectly kept. Huge trees were growing around, creating shade from the warm sunlight. Flowers of all shades of reds, yellows, oranges, and any other color imaginable grew in various places. Greenery was among the flowers too, accenting and highlighting the natural beauty of it all. Everything was placed expertly so nothing looked out of place, like it often did on Earth. There were many animals around of all kinds. Hawks and falcons flew overhead, snakes hung in the trees lazily, lions slept under the sun, and cows grazed on the soft grass.

In short, it was amazing. Castiel watched as I looked around a soft smile gracing his features. I loved the way his eyes crinkled a little bit with the smile, almost like they were smiling too. Speaking of his eyes, I swear I saw a look of longing in them.

"It's so beautiful," I said, spinning in a circle to see everything again.

"Indeed it is," Castiel replied. "May I ask how much you know about angels' culture?"

"What part? Dad gave me a bunch of notebooks filled with stuff."

"Courting."

"Nothing, why?"

Castiel was silent for a second before he motioned for me to follow as he started to walk through the Garden.

"It's customary to take one you wish to court to the Garden," Castiel started.

Oh. That's why Dad was so happy. Wait… back up the train. Castiel wants to court me? I mean, what? That's crazy talk! Shutting up now so I can hear the rest.

"Courting for angels means more than it does to humans. Humans treat it so carelessly now. For angels it's a commitment to another. It's a sign of devotion to your beloved."

Silence passed for a moment. I was struggling to put the pieces of _why_ this was happening together.

"So you want to court me?" I asked, seeing if I was understanding this correctly.

Castiel simply nodded, seeming to be embarrassed.

"Any other formalities?"

A shake of his head.

I looked at Castiel for a moment. His dark hair was still messy, just the way it was when I first met him. His blue eyes were downcast, but I knew that if I looked into them I would practically see the depths of the ocean. His lips were parted slightly as I've noticed he tends to do when he waits for me to reply to a question. His long trench coat open, as it always was revealing the suit he had on underneath. As usual, his tie was loose. He was perfect. Everything about him was so perfect, and I was the opposite of that.

Despite wanting to say yes I didn't deserve it. I was a weak little Nephilim. I had so many problems, some of which I was still learning about. I failed to protect some of the Seals, and thirteen were broken while a demon had me possessed. Castiel deserved better than me. He deserved another angel, someone that wasn't as flawed as the broken Nephilim I am.

I looked away. "I can't. I don't deserve someone as good as you."

Castiel stopped walking. He gently moved my chin so I was looking at him. His eyes were full of love, love that I knew I felt deep down. Love that I was struggling against.

"If we only got what we deserved I would never have met such a wonderful woman," Castiel told me, looking me straight in the eye.

The love I felt for him broke free of my control and I hugged him tightly. A silent tear (or more, it was hard to tell) fell down my cheek. Castiel returned the warm embrace.

"I love you Cas," I whispered.

Cas replied in quiet enochian.

 _November 21, 2008_

 _If I were to quote Dad I would write "It finally happened!" but I won't. Cas basically asked me out today. I almost said no. He's so much better than me. Right now I'm just a broken Nephilim, looking for her place. Cas countered that with saying that he wouldn't have met such a wonderful person if we only got what we deserve. Looking back, I agree with him._

 _The universe judged me for being a Nephilim. Other than Mom, Kade, and Derek, Cas was the first person that knew the truth that gave me a chance. Before that I always hunted alone because monsters knew what I was. They judged me when they saw me. That never ended well for them, to say the least. I'm glad Cas did that. I'm grateful for the chance at life he gave me._

 _Gale Atkins_


	12. Chapter 12

**I passed drivers ed, and will be able to update more often now. Just FYI: I felt like writing in Slenderman (I wrote this before watching "#Thinman" from season 9) and Googled how to defeat him. I found this on a forum. I do not own Slenderman, nor Supernatural. Read on!**

December 14, 2008

My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting the conversation I was having with Cas. We had just finished dealing with some demons, as he was teaching me how to successfully 'smite' a demon. So far, my success rate was below fifty percent. Anyways I pulled out my phone and checked the caller ID. Shockingly enough, it was Derek, my sixteen year old brother. I answered almost immediately.

"Derek, what's up?" I asked, a bit confused.

Derek prefered to just text me. He knew how crazy life was with me hunting and helping Cas with the Seals. He knew that I would always reply when I had time.

"I… it's Mom. She's disappeared, Gale. I can't find her," Derek told me.

I could hear the panic in his voice. He had issues being alone for long periods of time.

"Is Dad around?"

Read: Did Jael need Dad?

"No. I'm scared, sis. Can you come get me?"

"You home?" I asked after a brief pause.

"Yup," Derek replied.

"Be there in a few. Do you mind Cas coming with? That's the only way I can get there today."

There was a sniffle on the other side of the line. "Sure. See you in a bit."

"See you in a few," I replied.

Derek hung up first, leading me to do the same. I looked at Cas, who was watching me curiously.

"That was my little brother. He says Mom's missing and is freaking out a bit. Is it OK if you give me a lift over there?" I asked shyly.

Even though it's been almost a month since we got together I was still a bit nervous asking for stuff like this. It seemed like something that I should be able to do on my own. I mean, I could ask for flying lessons, but that would make it more awkward. I'll have to ask Dad or Michael for those.

"Of course. Am I correct in assuming that he is at your home?" Cas replied.

"Yeah," I replied.

Cas pulled me into his warm embrace, a nice respite from the chill of the air and a habit he's developed, before flying us into the living room of my house. Derek was there, and he wasn't looking too good. His short blondish brown hair was sticking up at odd angles from him running his fingers through it too many times, his usually bright green eyes were a bit red from crying, and I could tell that he had just gotten up just a bit ago (despite it being one in the afternoon in Kansas City) by the large sweatshirt that said 'You can make Hell like home' and the loose black sweatpants he was wearing. He was shorter than me, but only by a bit, he was 5'4'' and I was 5'5'', it was an inch I hoped to keep.

Cas let me go just before my brother attacked me with a tight hug. I returned it, hoping to offer some form of comfort. It was several minutes before he let me go, but what mattered was that it helped him. I noticed Cas looking around, most likely trying to find some trace of whatever took Mom.

"Derek, can you tell us what happened?" I asked after my brother had calmed down a lot.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on it slightly, and began to pace before he replied.

"I was sleeping and I heard this noise that woke me up, like static or something. I heard Mom scream, I think, and then there was nothing. I… I came out of my room and the living room was trashed. Mom wasn't anywhere, I looked everywhere."

"Hey, I'll find her. You'll be fine, trust me."

Derek glanced over at me as he paused in his pacing. "Can I come with you?"

"Absolutely not," I replied immediately.

"I'm not some kid you can tell what to do!"

"You're sixteen."

"I turned seventeen four weeks ago! I can help!"

"I don't want you to get hurt."

Derek looked away from me, almost like he's ashamed. "As if that has ever changed anything."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing. Just run of the mill werewolves tried to make me their midnight snack three years ago. Before that, some vampires moved into town and almost drank me dry. Heck, last week a demon tried to get me to sell my soul."

My gaze darkened. I grabbed the hem of my brown patterned tunic in order to restrain my anger. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Let's see, when you're eighteen you leave Mom and me so you can go hunt whatever monsters you can find and rarely come home for holidays. The same bad guys you fought before were right here, in Kansas City. But no, you had to go out and fight them in other places leaving me and Mom alone to deal with whatever came at us. She had to teach me how to shoot a gun and fight when I was thirteen, Gale. No thirteen year old should have to go through that."

I didn't want to leave when I was eighteen. Mom had to practically force me out the door to get me to leave. She had told me to go and fight for other people. She had said that Derek and she would be safe. I believed her. Was I going to tell Derek that? Nope.

"I'm sorry," I told him, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I should have come home more often, dropped by on holidays too. I got caught up in hunting. I should have been paying more attention to home. I'm sorry, for everything," I told Derek.

"Gale," Cas said softly, catching my attention.

Cas had a small piece of notebook paper, yellowed with age. It was only a piece of a page, about a quarter of a full sheet. I could make out the word 'eyes' that had been written over itself several times. I remembered the legend my friends tried to scare me with. Slenderman. The faceless demonic creature that wore a suit. Thing is, there was hardly any lore on the creature. I looked it up around April to see if there was anything to the legend. I found nothing.

"Slenderman," I cursed under my breath.

"Slenderman? Say what?" Derek asked.

"You are definitely staying here. Let Cas and me take care of this."

Derek pouted, but got the sense of urgency in my voice. "Fine. But you owe me a hunt."

"Deal."

From what I remember, Slenderman is Germanic in origin. He kidnaps children too, for whatever reason. Why out of all the things I could remember, why am I only remembering the useless facts? Cas took my hand quietly before flying us somewhere. Almost instantly I recognised it as my room in Michael's house. I understood why we were here. Human legends wouldn't help us with this case. I knew Michael had to have some book of lore on Slenderman.

Surprisingly, Michael was in the library when we got there. He was speaking quietly to Raphael, who left as soon as he noticed me. That earned an eye roll from me. He's still slightly ticked off about me and Jael going to see Sorath. Michael simply sighed before making his way over to us.

"What do you need?" he asked.

Yes, he can read me that well that he can tell when I want something. When I was recovering from Bundon that caused him to pretty much spoil the living tar out of me. It was freaking awesome.

"Got anything on Slenderman?" I asked.

"Lexi Atkins was kidnaped by this creature," Cas added.

Dad shot up from behind one of the bookshelves. "He what!?"

"Electrocution should do the trick. Jael, stay out of trouble," the archangel said.

Jael flew the short distance to where Cas and I were before putting a hand on both of us and flying to some location. Cas was just as surprised as I was at the sudden flight, but who can blame Dad? Mom's in danger, it's only natural for him to want to protect her. Anyways, we appeared in a dense forest that was lit only by the soft glow of the moon. We definitely weren't in America anymore. Mom was tied to a tree by some dark tendrils that extended out of Slenderman's back. Did I mention Slender was there? Yeah, he was. Let me say this much, before Dad goes crazy on him, Slenderman did not look pleased.

"It seems I got your attention," Slenderman said, static accompanying his words.

"Yes you do, _brat_ ," Jael hissed.

Did Dad just call the creature we're fighting a brat? Ugh… Dad… why?

"You have not honored our agreement."

Dad glanced between Slender, me, and Mom for a moment. "Was I drunk at the time?"

Static was his only answer.

"What was it?" Dad asked, hanging his head.

"During the Nephilim War you enlisted my assistance to defeat their armies. You promised me seventeen humans as sacrifice."

"I really was drunk at the time," Dad muttered.

"Dad?" I asked, seeing what the angel would do. He gave me a subtle nod, letting me know that the floor was now mine. I guess he was seeing what I would do in a situation like this one.

I smirked as I channeled grace into my hand, willing it to form a bit of lightning that pranced between my fingers and palm. "Do you really want to try to force our hands? Three angels against the likes of you?"

"Three angels? I only see an angel, a deal breaker, and the same creature I helped wipe out millennia ago."

"Same end, no matter the minutia," I retorted.

Slenderman tightened the tendrils around Mom. Cas flew over in an instant, grabbed Mom, and flew back to us. The tree shattered after a second.

"Die, bastard," I told the creature, sending the lightning straight towards Slenderman. It hit him right in his chest and he exploded into black dust.

 _December 14, 2008_

 _It's been three weeks since Cas and I got together. Today we saved Mom from Slenderman (don't worry, we killed him). I hope Christmas is quiet. I've been planning with Mom and Michael for a week so far for a surprise for Cas. I just hope everything works out so we can do it!_

 _Nothing much to say today, oddly enough. TTYL._

 _Gale Atkins_


End file.
